


A Particular Night Light

by Kabewmer



Category: Original Work
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-09
Updated: 2021-01-09
Packaged: 2021-03-13 10:33:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28652067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kabewmer/pseuds/Kabewmer
Summary: I wrote this story with the Stanley Parable's narrator in mind because it's kind of slightly amused but serious tone felt like it fit what I was going for. It's a silly story but it has elements of truth to it from my childhood. This is the story of a street lamp and how this street lamp entertained my young mind years ago.





	A Particular Night Light

In a neighborhood of no particular intrigue, full of houses of no particular interest, with people of no particualr importance, there stood a street lamp, alone in its efforts of illumination. It stood tall and proud, content in the knowledge that it carried out its primary duty with diligence each night. It reflected on its life, surrounded by the erect corpses of his comrades who’s lifelight had given out over the years. The thing about being a street lamp is the isolation one may feel while standing guard over the road. At night, its kingdom’s domain stretches as far as the light reaches, and encompasses all it touches, but goes no further. Both a silent observer and a sentinel, the light had diligently guided many desolate creatures through the darkness, offering a temporary respite from the shadows as many pass under its watchful gaze. The businessman who had worked worked overtime for the third time this week. The rebellious daughter sneaking out to a party against her parents’ wishes. The prowling cat patrolling the pavement with the class and arrogance of its status. All had required the street lamp’s guidance, even if they hadn’t known they did. One such creature seeking this lamp’s vision was that of a small child. This particular lamp provided a source of wonder and inspiration for one young boy living down the street, who spent hours each night staring out the window in awe of the mightly glow of the lamp. The radiance of this light kept him safe from the monsters that lurked beyond in the darkness. Though beyond the child’s senses, he knew they were there, waiting patiently for him to go to sleep for the night. They would devour his feet when he let his guard down, and so he would simply not sleep. This particular boy held a particular fondness for this one particular lamp as it cast its beams throughout the boy’s room, protecting him from the abominations he feared, and kept him company from the horrors of the world. This light, paternal in nature, filled the boy with an intangible warmth that remained present until the next morning came to usher in a new day where the sun could take over as protector of this child. Years had passed since those days, and that boy had grown up, and the light had grown dim with him. The flashing of the street lamp’s light came late in the night, signalling to the boy, who had since become a man, that its time was at an end. On and off, it went for hours as it clung to the last leg of its life in a desperate attempt to provide its comforting luster for one more night. The man gazed at it, knowing what was going to pass, and gave a little smile of appreciation to his old friend and confidant. The street lamp had nurtured the boy in its own way, and its reflection shined in his eyes signalling the passing of the torch to the young man who had taken solace in the light for so long. He was grateful, as silly as that sounds, because without this light, the night terrors would have won every night and the monsters would have taken the boy’s soul, he was sure of it. The man turned around, called to by the sound of his little brother, asking to be tucked into bed for the night and left the window of the bedroom that had once been his. The street lamp watched the boy with a certain fondness as he disappeared from view. The kid was going to be alright on his own now, the lessons the street lamp had taught were not lost on him. On. Off. On. Off. On. Off. On.  
“Goodbye little one,” the street lamp thought to itself in one last moment of clarity 

Off.


End file.
